


Warrior and the Willow Man

by Angeltigerdragon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Manipulative Steve, Marvel Cameos, Post Mpreg, Public Nudity, Tony is a forest nymph, Tree Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 17:24:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angeltigerdragon/pseuds/Angeltigerdragon
Summary: Based off "The Willow Maid" song performed by Erutan. Check the video here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E52rxz2sjRs





	Warrior and the Willow Man

Steve walked through the east woods, sword hilted and shield on his back. His path ahead aimless for the sunny day. To him it seemed too sunny. Too much life. Peculiar how one becomes accustomed to death in a few short years.

The war's over for the village and his king. Yet, Steve has not let go. 

He is called "Nomad" by his people and seen as the paranoid wanderer. Steve cannot deny the looks given to him or the fact he is what they claim. He has not felt peace in years. The woods are not bursting with bandits but it allows him an excuse to keep his weapons at his side. They have been his only friends for years. 

He walks with determined loss. The trees and critters are familiar to him as he continues. The path stays straight. Today though, with the sun and the too many live things about, Steve's trusty shield, which won him many battles, feels heavier. He sighs. There is little in this life to bring him joy. Steve begs for war in his mind barely an hour spent without the need for action and a reason to fight. A reason to continue. 

He veers to the left, not watching his stride. Steve follows a new path. It is strange and the air full of a heady scent. Steve moves forward.

He startles upon a giant willow tree. The trunk of the grand arbor is bigger than his small house. Steve stares around the beautiful wood. 

"It would make me a fine chair or table from this sturdy stuff," he mutters. Steve feels the wood. It grates against his hard hand and suddenly joy comes to him. He has not felt this in ages. 

Steve let's go and smiles sadly. It is too old and ancient to cut down this willow. If it has survived this long then he will not be the one to fell it

Steve sits under the tree and allows the sunlight to wash his thoughts away.

* * *

Steve awakes to a noise. His muscles tense and he is on his feet sword in hand shield at the ready.

No one is there.

"Hello."

Steve looks up and drops his weapons.

Above him, within the tree, a man lies among one of the branches. He is beauty incarnate. Soft raven locks with a small sparrow beard. Ruby red lips and tender brown eyes. Flawless ivory skin with pink nipples. The man's supple legs are folded but Steve can make out a small patch of hair below the abdomen where the man's sex will be. 

Steve's thoughts of war and battles disperse in flames. HIs only goal in life is to have the man to himself.

"Don't suppose you talk," says the man. "It has been some time since Man came to these parts. The language may have changed. But, I think we can talk in general terms soldier."

Steve nods. The voice is clear and crisp almost childlike.

"So, you do understand me? Or you just nod because you see me talking?" the man says, bemused. His smile is sweet and innocent.

Steve wants to see it after a night of passion.

"I can speak," he chokes out. "The language has not changed." Steve takes a breath. "What are you?"

The man hums. "Most ask "who"', he says. "Though, as I mentioned, no Man has been here in years. Do you know the Fae?"

"No. Not outside of stories and legend," Steve says.

"Oh," says the man. His face crestfallen. "Has no one seen one of my people?" he asks, distress.

The heady scent of the forest is still there. It takes Steve some time to realize it is the man. The scent is one Steve is acutely aware of because he has felt it and put it in other men: fear. The man above has his knuckles tight on the tree face scrunched in worry. Steve looks down and smiles to himself. To conquer is to have the upper hand not always brute strength, but intelligence. He looks to the man again with an easy smile.

"I've not heard of you or your ilk. Perhaps, some of the travelers who come through my village may have. They're the ones who tell stories of the Fae." The man stares in hope, breath elevated. A little nudge in the right direction. "There aren't' any travelers today. If you come with me and wait a few days they'll be more in a few days time." Though, Steve leaves out the fact that the war ravaged roads have stilled travelers. They will not be fixed for months.

But, as he sees, it is enough to make the man want to leave. In the village, Steve can properly take him slowly. 

"I can't leave. See me now as I am," the man says.

Steve has not stopped.

"I cannot abandon this place, for if I could, I would have left this forest long ago in search of my people," he says. Tears come to his eyes, glistening down his round face like moondance.

Steve balls his fist. No matter, more information is required. For now, an olive branch must be given.

"My name is General Steven Rogers of His Majesty's army," he says and salutes.

The man sniffles and lets out a small laugh. 

"Tomorrow I will come visit you and everyday until I have news of the travelers," he declares. It is not a complete lie.

The man smiles and sits up legs folded. 

"And I am known the Willow Man. You can call me Anthony," he says.

* * *

Steve is dutiful to his promise. Everyday he comes to the east woods and follows the path to his Willow Man. Anthony greets him in kind, always in the tree, just out of reach. Steve has shared his history and weapons. Anthony's curiosity shines through with every new item and detail told. Steve notes Anthony never leaves the willow's branches. 

Perhaps, he needs to entice the Willow Man down.

On his fifth visit, he brings a basket of pastries from the bakery. 

"Anthony," he calls from below.

"Up here, general," says that melodic voice.

Steve finds him and almost drops his basket. Throughout their interactions, Anthony has been lying like a lazy serpent on the branches; this does not detract from his beauty, though it left some imagination to his full nudity. Today, he sits up legs akimbo and Steve can see all. The sex is proportionate to Anthony's lighter frame and a batch of dark pubic hair nestles perfectly. Steve has yet to see the back but he is willing to wait. 

"What do you have there?" Anthony asks. He points to the basket.

"Uh," Steve swallows. "Pastries. I thought you might like them. I've never seen you eat and these are vitriols you cannot have in the woods." Steve opens the top and holds up the basket.

The smell wafts in the light breeze of apple tarts and jammy cookies. Anthony gapes and looks down at the treats. He reaches out his arm. This is usually a sign for Steve to hand the Willow Man the new thing. Steve pulls back. Immediately, Anthony reels back onto the branch. 

"Will you come down today?" Steve asks, pretending to ignore the flinch in Anthony. "I brought a blanket and some refreshment for this to be a proper picnic."

"That is..well,uh,...oh I can't. I want nothing more in this life than to come on the ground and join you!" Anthony yells. 

"Then come down, Anthony," he says. He knows what the answer will be. Steve needs to goad more for the truth.

Anthony slumps in his position and lets out a desecrating laugh.

"I want to so bad, Steve. I am bound by this tree and its life. I can never step foot on the ground or my immortality will fade and this tree will die." Anthony sighs. A small sob escapes.

"Anthony," Steve says softly. This tugs at his hardened heart. Without much thought, Steve uses his strength to climb the willow. Its trunk is smooth, but the roots are long and high. He jumps up a bit and catches onto a knob in the tree. This would be easier with both hands, but he refuses to drop the pastries. They are for Anthony.

"Steve!" Anthony yelps upon seeing him.

Steve glances and gives Anthony a cheeky grin. 

Anthony rolls his wet eyes. He lifts his hands and suddenly the branches grab on to Steve's waist. Steve inhales sharply as the tree drags him like a doll. Steve lands on the wide branch Anthony is on.

Still stunned and red in the face, Steve hands the basket over. 

"Thank you," Anthony says. There is a reverence to it. Steve sees the deep want and hope in his Willow Man. For Anthony, this is not just a nice treat. It is an offering of friendship and hope for the future where he is not alone, where others like him will come. Steve sees this all in the man's face and as he takes his first bite jam sticking to his sumptuous lips. 

Soon his Willow Man will not have to settle for this small reprieve. Steve has won his first battle. 

* * *

By the tenth visit, Anthony has stopped asking about travelers. Well, frankly, he seemed less enthusiastic about them since visit number five and by visit seven did not mention travelers until Steve had to leave. 

Slowly, Steve has gathered information about Anthony's condition. He is a nymph of rare breed. For his kind, they must attach their immortality to flora or arbor to keep it. If they choose to leave that place then mortality comes and the plant's life force with it. And the most important detail, once Anthony abandons the tree he must find a mate and bear children to escape, as he describes, "a worse fate than spending eternity in a tree." Anthony blushed at the confession about the "mating" but said it was imperative. 

Steve took all this in stride. Anthony like him was lonely. Purposeless.

On his tenth visit, Steve sat up with Anthony in the tree's shade. It truly was a magnificent willow. Steve would feel shame when it had to die for his love to come home.

"Hmhm," Anthony hummed.

"Shilling for your thoughts?" Steve asked.

"What?" 

Steve looked at Anthony's wrinkled nose. Truly, he would have to watch out for his Willow Man. 

"It means what is on your mind," Steve clarifies. "You've been happy to see me, but there's always something...."

Anthony touched his shoulder. 

"I am happy. I've been alone for ages and the animals are fine company but not too keen on conversation nor the discovery of new flora," he said. "Most days I wished I had chosen a different path. A tree is so sturdy and unmoving." He stopped and squeezed his hand on Steve's shoulder. Steve placed his over the smooth skin. "I hate it. I hate that I'm bound to this. That I can't leave without fear of...you know...and that I don't know where any of my kin are. I had so many friends. Virginia who would follow the growth of red toadstools, James who was a will-o-wisp and flew around to tell me stories. Bruce, oh dear Bruce. He was the only other who understood the cycle of life and its many distinctions. He was a moss man."

At the end of this Anthony had tears pooling in his eyes. Steve takes a beat, and then, embraces his beloved. Anthony breaks and holds Steve so tightly. The Willow Man shakes. He nuzzles against the warrior's neck. Steve messages circles into the man's back.

Steve lets go first once Anthony calms. The small frown on the man's face disappears quickly. Steve knows that he wanted more. 

"I am sorry to unload that on you," Anthony says. "But as I said, it has been ages."

Steve takes a breath. "I understand. I do," he reassures from Anthony's glare. "It may not be the same, but I have lost many. My comrades and close friends in battle. Our King is a wise man, but he is no strategist. That was my path. I lead many battles and won...at great costs to myself and my soldiers. So many never returned." Steve took another breath, shaking this time.

Anthony leaned against. "Go on, please."

"My friend and brother, Buchanan, he died. He died saving our land. He died because he wouldn't allow me to die." Steve holds Anthony for comfort. "I became wretched with sorrow. I threw myself in battle after battle growing use to the adrenaline, the paranoia of an enemy watching, the stench of death. When it ended I never found peace. I kept my sword and shield with me." 

"Like on the day we met," Anthony says.

"Yes," and here Steve makes his sacrifice. "Being with you, talking, sharing my village's food, I feel light. That the weight of my past lifted the day I came to your willow."

Anthony says nothing. Neither does he. They embrace again tightly until dusk. 

Steve returns to the village. He does not see the longing anguish upon Anthony's face.

* * *

The caravan to Steve is a bad omen. Travellers have come to the village. Romani by the looks of them. He blends in the background and listens to a bulking brute tell stories to the children of frost giants with the slender man next to him scoffing. They must from the Nordic lands. To the further end, a deaf archer shoots his arrows directly unto the apple on a red headed woman's head. The crowd cheers. Steve makes eye contact with the woman. Her shrewd eyes catch him. He turns back to the brute and slender man arguing over if the giants are monsters or misunderstood.

Steve is about to leave for his seventeenth visit to Anthony when he is grabbed. There is knife to his back.

"Come with me," commands a woman's voice.

Steve follows wondering how such a delicate woman grasps him hard and the knife feels thin enough to slice his spine. He is corralled to the last tent. It is dark inside with one candle flaring. There is a small round table and sitting at the chair is a man in a scarlet cape with a crystal eye on the table's center.

"Natasha, please do not be rude to our guest," he says in an educated voice.

"Had to get him here somehow, Strange," she replies.

She leaves and Steve sits at the opposite chair.

"Why am I here?" he says.

The man across has a slow smile.

"Not one to mince words. That's good," the man says. He taps the crystal eye and immediately an image of a willow appears. Anthony's willow.

Steve's knuckles crack when he fists them.

"No need to fight, friend. I have simply brought you here for sound advice," the man says.

"What could you possibly have that I need?"

The man, Strange if he recalls, tilts his head. "You are in love with a Fae. That is a doomed love unless the Fae forsake their immortality."

Steve straightens in his chair. "You know of other Fae."

"Yes, I do." He leans forward a self-satisfied look on his face. "Permit me to tell you a story. There was a family so revered in their status that no wrong could be seen with them. That is until their eldest daughter, Hela, tried to rule the land with an iron blade. She was defeated by a Valkyrie and hung. But the blame went to her father, Odin, who was cast out with his second young wife bearing a child. The child was named Thor. Years later, Thor attempted to reclaim his family's honor. It had been his great grandfather Bor who killed the first frost giant with a hammer made from dwarf metal. That was where the family legacy began. Thor, idiot he was, thought if he could kill one giant then the deeds of his elder sister would be forgotten."

At this point, Strange changed the image to one of a snowy mountain. 

"Of course, the first action was to find a frost giant. They had not been seen in over 100 years. It was here." He gestured to the image. "After weeks of searching and running low on food, that Thor found his giant. During a heavy snowfall, Thor took refuge in a cave. A giant lived there. A runt by the name of Loki who happened to be proficient in magic."

"Let me guess," Steve interrupted. "They battled and this Thor found the weakness to make Loki a mortal and kill him easily."

Strange grinned wider.

"Wrong, soldier. Thor whined at the size of Loki who was no taller than him. An inch or two shorter to be fair. Loki, angered and insulted, lashed out with not weapon but a quick tongue. And then, a dagger. The two sparred verbally for hours until the snowfall stopped. It was at this juncture Loki told Thor the harrowing news: there were no frost giants. At least not the big ones. He was to be the last true giant since all the others turned mortal. Thor scoffed at this. Said it was preposterous; Loki simply said it was Thor's great grandfather who started that when he stripped the giantess Bestla of her horns and made her his wife. You can imagine, Thor was flabbergasted. However, the stories add up. Bor went into the mountains and returned weeks later with the horns of a frost giant and a rather tall maiden whom he married upon his return."

There was a pause and Steve looked at the man. 

"What happens next?"

Strange stroked his eye and it went clear.

"That side of the story is for Loki and Thor to tell you. We'll be here for a fortnight. You have time. Go visit the Willow Man."

Steve got to leave, but stopped.

"Are there any more Fae? Out there or anywhere?"

"Closer than man knows," Strange says.

* * *

Steve did not tell Anthony. Anthony did not ask. Instead, for the whole visit, Steve wondered about Strange's last words. _Closer than man knows_. He guessed the blond brute and slender man had to be Loki and Thor because of the height both had. And that mountain, he'd only seen carvings of it, but it was in the Nordic lands where it appeared those two hailed from by their clothes and tales of frost giants. The visit was quiet and it left Steve uneasy. What could Loki and Thor have to tell?

The next day he did not visit Anthony. It was a risky maneuver but he had to reassess his plan if this new story held any detractions. Steve found the blond man and the slender man in the market buying groceries and the slender man heckling for some spices. Steve approached them.

The blond spotted him first.

"Ah! Loki my star, look! It is the warrior Strange predicted!" said Thor, as Steve guessed.

"Speak louder, you big oaf, I'm not sure the magistrate heard you," sniped Loki with a pinched expression.

Thor chuckled heartily and gave Loki a chaste kiss.

Steve felt a spike of jealousy. He stamped it down for this endeavor. Loki looked at him. The slender man appears to assess Steve.

"I'd say a drink is in order," he nods. Loki walks away and Thor shrugs to follow. Steve breathes and follows these strange men. 

They sit in the tavern and order. Steve waits for the men to talk.

Thor shifts first. "I know it may sound odd and a bit far fetched, but what the wizard said is true. My lovely Loki is a former giant."

"And..." Steve prompted, frustrated.

"And, this big oaf fell in love with me. As I did." Loki leaned closer to Steve. "I was a runt. Embarrassment of my father and brothers. Left for dead if not for the care of Bestla, my old nan."

"What? But, she..." Loki held up his hand and Steve stopped.

"I have lived hundreds of years. That is all you need understand. When Bor came and took Bestla I hated him. I hated that she left me alone." Loki stops as their drinks are served. "And, it was the beginning of a divide in our people. Giants don't truly die. Not the way humans do. They become stone in a dormant slumber. Over time they break. That is how the world got its many peaks."

He takes a sip of his ale. Thor gulps it down.

"Ah, good. Another!" Thor bellows. It grabs the attention of the maiden.

"I was asked to come with her," Loki says. "To be mortal and a proper son to her and Bor. I did not react well."

It is quiet again. 

Steve takes a breath.

"I tried to kill Bor before her could take away her horns."

He inhales sharply.

"It was ill-planned and improvised. But, Bestla had been the only giant to love me...and I was scared. Ashamed. To everyone, she was a traitor. Even Bor's offer almost got them both killed."

"What did he offer?" Steve asked.

"When my great-grandfather came and took Bestla's immortality, it gave giants another way out. My hammer Mjolnir is one of a set." Thor pulls the heavy thing from his belt. It is an impressive weapon with intricate filigree decoration. "The other was Storm Breaker, which he left for the giants as a parting gift and negotiation of sorts for Bestla's hand. However, it was not well-received at the time." **** ~~~~

"The Elders of the Mount, including my father, made a terrible snowstorm. Truly testing Bor's resolve and his love for Bestla. They made it and their happy ending came," Loki finishes with a sneer.

Thor nudges the man's shoulder.

"My love, please do not have that sneer upon your pretty face," Thor says.

Steve can feel himself gagging a bit. The tactic works and Loki smiles.

"Back to us. Over a century later, most of the giants have left. The Elders turned to the new stone and I am left alone. Storm Breaker stayed at its post upon the lowest peak, and my fear of mortality as well. And then, one day this bumbling idiot waltzes into my cave," Loki says with such fondness.

"I did. Finding out about the truth did make me curse my grandfather for following his lower brain, but...talking to Loki had made me angrier, confused, and dare I say delirious with happiness than anything for such a long time." Thor puts his arm around Loki's slim shoulders. "And I saw too what plagued this wily creature. Loneliness and isolation. What my family suffered from the village after Hela's death. I could not leave him."

"I too saw that this big brute had more brains than he let on. I saw the expectation and disappointment I knew well from my father. But, I also felt this warmth in me. Which is strange for a frost giant. After the storm had broke, I lowered my head for Thor."

"With two mighty swings Loki's horns fell and five years later we were married."

Steve stared. "How does this have anything to do with me?" he finally asked.

Loki scoffed. Thor hummed.

"It's obvious warrior. If your Fae wants to be let go of his immortality, it must be him to choose. You cannot force him from his willow as Bestla and Bor could not move me from the mountains."

With that, Loki sniffed and got up. Thor chugged his ale and followed behind him.

Steve was left to pay.

* * *

Anthony fidgeted. He had been doing so all day. His warrior had yet to come again. Last Anthony saw of Steve, the man was distracted. Anthony talked for the most part about the discoveries he made in the last decade. Mostly of the stars and how they have changed. Not impressive, but he did grab Steve's attention. 

Anthony wonders when that was enough for him. How long can it be enough? 

Once, he thinks, there was a time Anthony had been content in his lot. He was the Willow Man; providing wisdom and herbs for passing man. His friends a constant rotation in his singular orbit. He's been alone with squirrels, hedgehogs, and the occasional hawk. It's a life. It's a life he regrets daily.

The brightest spot is Steve. And three days have passed since he came.

Steve walked the path to Anthony's tree. In his right hand an axe as sharp as a knife. It was large and branched out with a blunted end on the handle. 

He recalled the conversation with Thor: _"If you truly wish to free this nymph then you'll need Storm Breaker. No ordinary axe can take down a Fae willow."_

Steve walked on, determined. He had not seen his Willow Man in three days and he knew that this war he had set upon himself ended with Anthony's final strike. Not his.

Upon seeing the tree came a yell.

"Steve! Steve you came back!" 

He stopped just short out of Anthony's line of vision. 

"Steve! Oh, I know you're there. Please, come talk to me."

He waited a pregnant moment and squeezed the axe tight.

"Come back. Please don't leave me alone," Anthony keened. 

Steve made the last few feet to Anthony. Above, on his branch, sat Steve's nymph love. Tears openly flowed on Anthony's face and he reached out for Steve.

The warrior stood his ground. He showed the axe. The willow bristled. Anthony was a statue.

Steve could not read the man's face. The tears dried and Anthony stared intently at the axe.

"What are you planning?" he asked.

"I have no plan."

Anthony stared at the axe. The willow appeared to shrink in Steve's view. 

"He's afraid. I've kept him alive for centuries and unharmed. With that axe you not only kill the tree but my attachment to him." Anthony said all this with a deadpan voice as if he was reading a tome. 

Steve came closer axe at the ready. 

"I'll lose all my powers and become mortal completely," Anthony said. "The frantic look for a mate won't be needed, I can wait. Not to worry about a fate worse than death."

Steve stared up at Anthony's face. 

Anthony jumped off the tree. He landed gracefully on the ground. Suddenly, the willow moaned and cracked, its leaves turning yellow then brown. 

"I'll follow where you lead, Steve," Anthony said.

Steve nodded and began chopping.

**5 years pass**

The toddler bounced in his papa's lap. He liked how Papa made kissy faces. They sat at a picnic in an enclosed grove. Da was taking out the food for them and Peter saw some tarts.

"Tarts," he said and pointed.

"No, no. First some milk then tarts my little flower," Papa said.

Peter pouted but then papa tickled his belly. 

Next to them was a stump covered in vines and buds. Papa said that the flowers would bloom this eve.

"Come on, food is out," Da said.

Peter drank his milk and ate carrots. Da let him eat two tarts instead of one like Papa said.

They sat there until evening when the flowers bloomed.

"Remember this," Da said. "Peter remember this place. It was where I met Tony and one of the few places your people are connected to." Da came closer and held Peter looking at him. "Your papa's people are still within our world. They're just mortal now walking among us. But, their stories, their presence, will always be felt."

Peter smiled with his impish green eyes. He will understand later in life of his origins and his papa's people. And that, the world is full of others like him. But, for the toddler, now is about the night sky, the shining flowers and the love between his parents.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I've been gone a long time. Thank you to everyone who reads and please check out the song


End file.
